


revival

by reversemagician (himaAlaya)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aftercare, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Shibari, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 23:47:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11725098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/himaAlaya/pseuds/reversemagician
Summary: The plan was a stream. A stream on the phansite that was available to anyone. At least they weren’t about to broadcast this all across Japan.





	1. revival

**Author's Note:**

> (muffled best friends banvox remix playing in the background)

“It’s not too tight, is it?” His gloved hands ghost over the rope, tracing the intricate knots that he had tied. It took a while, but it was always worth it in the end. It might take even longer to untie and redo the whole thing, but he was willing to do it for Mishima if it meant he was comfortable. He wiggles his hands, brushing them lightly against Akira’s thigh. There was too much fabric in the way for him to really do anything.

“It’s fine, stop worrying.” That doesn’t ease his mind at all. “Did you set everything else up?” He gestures towards the laptop, the webcam perched precariously on the screen. The built in  webcam would have worked, but it wasn’t nearly as nice. Akira leaned forward, pressing his chest to Mishima’s back and double checking the set up. The mic worked, the camera was higher end, everything seemed like it was in place. Mishima watched closely, trying his hardest to not concentrate on Akira’s red gloves.

This might be a terrible idea. 

The plan was a stream. A stream on the phansite that was available to anyone. At least they weren’t about to broadcast this all across Japan. “Are you ready?” He holds Mishima’s face gently, turning his head to face his. Mishima drinks it all in, Akira in his phantom thief outfit. It’s amazing how well it suits him. He was always surprised that it wasn’t something he picked for himself. How did he even get that? Akira tried to explain it once but he had a hard time following it at the time.

“Let me just stare a little longer.”  

Akira rubs his thumb over Mishima’s cheek, bringing him in for a soft kiss. Mishima wished he could grab his jacket, grab at anything really, but mostly his hair. He knew how much Akira liked that. “People are waiting, you know. We should give them what they want.” His hand pulls away, and he slips a strip of cloth over his eyes. “If you’re ready for this.”

Mishima takes a breath, leaning backwards in to Akira. “I am.” At those words, the blindfold is tied tightly. It won’t slip off this way, Mishima won’t have to see all the comments that were inevitably going to come his way. Akira is close to him, pulling his mask down over his face. He’s opted to wear yellow contacts as part of the act, but it was more so people wouldn’t recognize him. 

The small beep sounds, they’re live.

There’s little ceremony. Akira runs his hands over Mishma’s chest. “Have you been behaving, admin?” Mishima shudders, flexing his hands against the ropes. He wants to rest his head against Akira’s shoulder, but they’ve got roles to play. That deep voice Akira puts on is what reminds him. He also wishes he could hear it more.

“Y-yes Joker….” He gasped at the feeling of cool leather on his skin, trailing down his body to rest on his waist. His fingers played idly with the waistband of his jeans, sliding underneath the fabric as he continued to speak.

“How good have you been? You have to tell me or I won’t know.” He stopped playing with his waistband, quickly unbuttoning his jeans. “I’ve been hearing rumors about you.” He leans in closer, face practically pressed against Mishima’s. “Some people have been saying you’re a slut sleeping around for information.” At that he zipped the fly down, pushing his jeans down from his hips to his thighs. 

“Th...that’s not true.” He squirmed as Akira grabbed him through his briefs, massaging his growing erection. “I’d never do that.” His breath catches in his throat as Akira began to slowly rub him through the fabric.

“How about you prove it?” There was a rustling of fabric as Akira took off his jacket. Mishima imagined it happening, could almost see his muscular arms. He shuddered when Akira’s arms wrapped around him again, skin on skin. “Come on, admin, show me you really mean it.” He takes Mishima’s erection out of his briefs, putting it on full display for their audience. He teases it, stroking it slowly and rubbing the slit with his thumb. He moaned quietly, pushing his hips forward. 

“I’m not like that.” He says it quietly, and Akira squeezed his dick. “I’m not!” He just about shouts, pushing his head back on to Akira’s shoulder. He feels his lips, chapped against his skin. He bites in to his skin, sucking on it to leave the darkest mark he possibly could. 

“I’m inclined to believe you.” He says it to his skin, softly blowing on to the wet mark. Akira pushes Mishima’s briefs down. “You’ve been such a good boy, you deserve something nice.” He threads his fingers in to Mishima’s hair, smoothing it over. Akira kisses him, pulling him closer. He fondles his balls, rolling them in his hands as he pulls his face closer to him. Mishima moans in to his mouth, pressing his tongue to Akira’s lips. Akira complies, letting Mishima kiss him. It’s sloppy and Akira stutters at Mishima’s enthusiasm. He can hardly keep up with what he wants. “Damn….” Akira whispered to Mishima, soft enough that he was the only person who could hear it.

“Am I good enough?” Mishima breathes, and Akira falters again. “Joker…” It’s a moment before Akira responds, remembering what he was supposed to be doing. 

“You’re doing better than that.” Akira lifts Mishima’s hips, working the plug out. He was thankful that they had taken the time to plan this, otherwise it’d just be a mess. “What did you want then, for being so good to me.” His fingers push inside Mishima, scissoring his fingers just for good measure. Mishima moans, loudly. “That’s not an answer.”

“Fuck me.” It’s to the point, like he’s been waiting to say it all night. He knows that he’s been waiting, he’s been so patient through this whole thing. “Please, Joker.” He gasps as Akira’s fingers brush his prostate. He can’t wait any longer, Akira let’s Mishima go and desperately pulls his pants down. He fumbles, grabbing for the lube and having it just about slip out of his hand. Shit. Play the part, just play the part. He struggles, pulling one of his gloves off with his mouth. He squirts some in to his palm, this was a lot messier than he had planned. 

He slicks up his dick, and grabs Mishima’s hips. “If you insist.” Akira pulls Mishima down in to his lap, letting him squirm as he sits him on his dick. “You’re going to have to work for it.” Mishima nods, lifting his hips up slowly. He’s doing it on purpose. Akira groans, gripping his hips tightly and pulling him back down. He’s going to eat his words later, in fact he’s going to eat them right now. 

Mishima squirms, digging his short nails in to his palms desperately. All he wants to do is touch. He tries to press his hands against Akira’s stomach, forcing himself backwards in to his chest. Akira obliges, letting one of his arms snake around his waist to pull him flush against him. His hips thrust upwards, and he pulls Mishima closer. It comes crashing in to him and he moans softly, pressing his face into Mishima’s back. He bounces him, Mishima trying to use his legs to support himself.

“Oh… Oh fuck!” Mishima can’t keep his voice down now.  His voice resounds in the small room, and Akira thrusts his hips up harder. His free hand blindly grasps for Mishima’s dick. He strokes it, his gloved hand sliding over the skin smoothly. Mishima begins to pant, legs shaking from exertion. “Aaahh… Ak-” Akira covers his mouth quickly, clamping his hand down. He makes a muffled noise and cums, entire body shaking. Mishima tenses up, clenching his muscles around Akira’s dick. It pushes him over the edge, and he cums as well.

They catch their breath for a moment, forgetting about the camera on them. Akira realizes it first, jerking his head up and cutting the feed with jerky movements. He falls forward, leaning heavily against Mishima. “I forgot the condom.” He mutters. “Ohhh my god I fucking forgot.” 

Mishima doesn’t move for a moment, hunched forward and breathing slowly. “Could you untie me?” Akira falters, clumsily untying the knots that he made earlier. It was faster than tying him up, but still required dexterity his brain couldn’t handle. He manages quickly enough, pulling the ropes away and letting them fall to the side. Mishima stands up, legs wobbling slightly and cum running down his leg. He unties the blindfold, tossing it aside along with the ropes. He finally kicks his jeans from his legs, turning back to Akira. He looks confused, and a little bit upset. He takes Akira’s face in his hands, pushing his mask up in to his messy hair. “I’m fine. Don’t give me that look.”

Akira falls backwards on to the bed, Mishima following him and lying on top. He never knows what to say after these kinds of sessions. Shouldn’t he be the one comforting Mishima? He drags his hands down his face and closes his eyes. For someone who was usually so smooth and had an answer for everything, he was really at a loss. Mishima threaded his fingers through his hair, gently carding through it. It was soft and familiar. Soothing. He hugs him, pulling him closer. “Shouldn’t I be comforting you?”

He hums, twirling a stray strand of his dark hair. “Not right now, you’re the one who needs it.” How was he supposed to be the perfect gentleman thief when he could barely hold himself together. 

“Thanks.” He murmured. They stayed like that for a while, Akira wasn’t really sure how long. The sun had gone down what had felt like forever ago and lying here together seemed like it couldn’t possibly last long enough. 

“You should take your contacts out.” 

Shit he forgot about that. He didn’t move, letting Mishima get him in to a sitting position without letting him go. “Are you sure you’re ok?” He held Akira’s face, his thumbs rubbing slow comforting circles. “You look really out of it.” 

Akira nodded. He knew that the aftercare was almost always for his benefit, but he still felt bad for not being able to provide everything Mishima needed. His hands slid to Mishima’s waist, and he leaned in to kiss him. It was soft. He didn’t want to pull away but he knew he’d have to get up so that he wouldn’t completely wreck his eyes. “Thank you, Yuuki.” 

He smiled, leaning in to kiss Akira again. “It’s never a problem, you don’t have to thank me.” 

Akira leaned against him again, feeling like he could easily melt in to the mattress. “No, you’re not allowed to sleep until you take out your contacts.” 

“Fiiiiiiine.” He whined, reluctantly letting go of Mishima and standing up from the bed. “If I fall over I blame you.”

Mishima stood up as well, grabbing his shoulders and steering him towards the door. “I’m going to hold you up the whole time, just like I always have.”

Akira’s heart skipped a beat. He really did have it bad.


	2. quiet watchers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath

The bright light burned his eyes as Mishima pulled the laptop closer to them. Akira buried his face in his back, nosing the fabric of his shirt. Really? Now? He was going to check the phansite for information right now? He groaned, pushing his face in to the pillows instead to block out the light. 

It had been an hour or so after the stream. They cleaned up, changed, agreed to not move for the rest of the night. Akira was wearing one of Mishima’s shirts, he was worried it wouldn’t fit but it seemed that his clothes were always just a little bit oversized. Or maybe it was one of the shirts he borrowed and never gave back. Sneaky bastard.

“Shut your laptop.” He mutters, covering Mishima’s eyes so he couldn’t read. “Please, I’m exhausted.” He sounds tired, a weariness in his voice that seems to always be there lately.  Mishima doesn’t listen to him, scrolling up through the site. Akira puts his hand out and grabs lightly at the screen. “Yuuki, go to bed.”

“No, no you have to hear some of these.” He moves Akira’s hand from his eyes, and threading their fingers together. “People really lit up the chat while we were busy.” Akira drops his hand from the screen. Alright, he was kind of interested. Not that he really wanted to hear what other people thought about his performance, he was more interested in what they said about his boyfriend.

He nods, resting his chin on Mishima’s shoulders so he could see. He skims some of them as Mishima scrolls through. “Wait what’s that one.” He stops him. “Did he almost say a name? It sounded like Aaah-kira.” He froze. He stopped that, he caught Mishima before he could say his name. Ohhh, god. This was bad. He squeezed Mishima’s hand nervously.  Mishima scrolled past it quickly. He smoothed his thumb over Akira’s hand, squeezing his hand back.

“It’s alright, they don’t know anything.” His voice was soft and reassuring. “Look at this one. ‘Admin you should moan louder we can’t hear you in the back’. “ Mishima laughed. “I think even the neighbours heard me.” Akira tangled their legs together as he spoke, pulling himself in closer. 

“I want Joker to fuck  _ me. _ ” Akira reads it, almost choking as he did so. “If only they knew.” He was thankful that only a handful of people knew just how soft he was.

“This one is really long.” Mishima stopped on what looked relatively lengthy. “It’s….a request?”

“You should really show your number one phan some more appreciation, let him pound you in to the mattress….” He pauses, reading a little further down before he keeps speaking. “I want to see you drool and absolutely lose your mind, Joker.” Akira’s mouth opens, and immediately shuts his mouth. His face heats up, blushing right from his chest to his ears. Mishima turns to look at Akira. “Woah, are you ok?” 

“I’m fine!” He squeaks, shifting awkwardly. Hearing those words coming from Mishima were getting him riled up again. “Really, I’m fine. Let’s just go to bed.” He gently closes the laptop, and pushes it away from them on the bed. Mishima goes to take out his phone, but Akira takes the from him too. “I mean it.”

Mishima huffs, rolling over to face Akira. “I’ll ignore it, but just this once.” 


End file.
